


I've got Issues

by TylerM



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Camp treating him as family, Daryl feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt Daryl Dixon, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, No Slash, Sad Daryl Dixon, Set In The Prison, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9941780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TylerM/pseuds/TylerM
Summary: Daryl Dixon honestly was a flipping badass before the Apocalypse happened, now he realises that he can't sleep unless someone is in the room with him.- Or the one where Daryl is having nightmares and realises the people around him are the only ones who can fix it.A sad sorry excuse to torture Daryl Dixon.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Daryl was a hard person to get into the head of, and I hope I've done him and the entire walking dead universe a justice. I love Daryl so much but theirs just not enough fluff (of course not its a show about Zombies there really shouldn't be any) but I wanted to torture the heck out of him and have the family come to his rescue. It's just a bit of fluff, I tried to keep it in character as possible to stay true to the show but this would never happen. Set in between the lure of attacks during season 3 and 4. Also no slash, just friendship. I hope you enjoy :)

Daryl doesn't understand why now, _now,_ of all times and places this has decided to become a problem. Last year they were living in the backyard of a bloody farm, he got shot by an amateur with a gun and he was _fine._

Before that, they were even less protected, they got over run by walkers and his brother got left on a bloody roof.

Even before that, he was Daryl fucking Dixon. Useless redneck who nobody gave two shits about. Not even Merle who was supposed to, being blood and all. Daryl didn't have a nice white picket fence childhood like Maggie and Beth, he didn't even get a civil one like Carl whose parents at least _tried_ to be nice to one another, and him.

Daryl's mother barely tolerated him, his father was a drunk in prison more time then he was out and well, Merle was, _Merle._

If Daryl's being really honest with himself, he usually isn't but he'll give it a go, this whole zombie apocalypse thing isn't as worse as it could be. Sure, on the grand scale Daryl isn't selfish enough to want the world to be in the shit hole, but generally this life style for him is almost better than the one he had before. Daryl's always been on the run from his life, living day to day like it might be his last, the added threat of Walkers just makes the hunting a bit more real.

But now he's got these _people._ He's never had people before. These people he'd die for. These people he would lay down his life for to make sure are okay.

Before the prison he was constantly in fear that one day they'd pack up and leave. He'd be on a run and when he got back they'd be gone, leaving him his shitty tent and bike. He was constantly going on runs for food and supplies to make himself worth keeping. He wasn't related to these people and he was sure for a while there Rick generally thought he'd had to put the racist little brother of Merle down before he became a bigger problem.  

He wasn't connected to these people in anyway and he knows his social skills are a little more than rough, so they weren't going to keep him around for his charming personality. He had to earn his keep, and he was constantly worried that one day they'd see how bloody useless he was and cut him loose.

He always just figured, his own parents couldn't be fucked to keep him, why would these strangers?

As time has gone on, new threats have arrived and Daryl's at least 75 percent sure Ricks not going to pack up and leave him behind any time soon, even if he comes back from a run empty handed. It's something that's always at the back of his head, nagging him and threatening to make him lose his mind. But he's pretty sure a repertoire has been built between him and the other camp mates.

He thinks at least Carol and Rick like him enough to keep.

He knows he's not overly likeable as a person. He's rough, hard, he doesn't say much on a good day and eye contact is not his thing. But he _really_ likes these people.

Although he would never say it to any of these faces, he really hopes they like him enough to keep around.

The problem is, that _this_ shouldn't be a problem at all. Not now. Not when they've got the prison running like a little functioning community. Not when they've taken on more man power and even started to grow their own crops. Not when everything's been quiet, no outside threats for a while, nothing out of the ordinary.

 Daryl should be at peace.

Daryl's never been at peace though, so why would the universe be on his side now?

The thing is, _he can't sleep._

Well, actually he can sleep. But every time he does he's plagued with nightmares. He sees all the people they've lost, covered in blood with rotting flesh and he's forced to bash them with his cross bow. He see's _Glen, Maggie, Rick, Beth, Merle,  Karen, Carl, Judith and Carol_ bitten by walkers. He couldn't save them in time and it's his fault and then he has to put them down. They smell like rotting flesh and organs are coming out of their chests covering in oozing red blood and Daryl can't make it stop no matter how much he screams.

On the really bad nights, the ones where he sees Carol get bit and he can't stop it, his Father comes out of the bushes to tell him how much of a useless piece of shit he is, and then comes the belt.

A grown ass man should not be in fear of an item designed to hold up pants, but he very well is when it's in the hands of his father.

For about a fortnight now, every single time he closes his eyes he's been meet with walkers and death and everyone he cares about turning on him. He doesn't know why it's started but he's slowly losing his mind over it, and he just can't sleep. He's gotten about 4 hours in the last four nights and each time woken up so violently he's surprised someone hasn't barged into his cell looking for a walker. Now he's just tired, he's so tried but he's too afraid to close his eyes and see Judith lying beneath a walker so he just sits up in his cell all night counting the scratches on the walls.

He watches the sun rise, and the moment he knows its light enough he goes on a solo run.

All day he struggles with the tiredness over taking him, and the run is basically a bust only catching a squirrel and some cans from an abandoned house. But it's better than nothing he tries to tell himself.

He comes back a bit after noon, offering what he has to Hershel who takes it and looks the younger man up and down. Daryl just chooses to ignore him though, it's not like he'd probably engage the man in a conversation on a good day anyway.

He knows people are probably starting to catch on to his mood, he's been more volatile and reserved than usual, which is saying a lot because that's basically his personality. But he doesn't know what to do, and he's not as open as Rick who seems to constantly want to talk about feelings. Daryl has never and will never talk about his feeling, he isn't some chick.

Still, he doesn't know what to do. He knows maybe talking to someone would do him some good, but he's stubborn and he doesn't want to give anyone a reason to leave him out on the curb. Or worse treat him like some invalid.

Instead he skips lunch, he doesn't really feel like he deserves it anyway and wanders around some of the cell blocks until it gets dark, avoiding anyone he comes in contact with.

He skips dinner too, which he knows Rick or someone will catch on to, skipping one meal he can get away with but people will start to notice if he just never comes down for food. And then Rick will get that look in his eyes, the one full of disappointment and concern, and Daryl doesn't know how to deal with that. He always freezes up and ends up doing whatever Rick wants. It's a social skill he's trying to work on and he reckons Rick exploits because he knows he can't handle it. Daryl thinks he's a bastard but he knows Rick won't be above using any means necessary to get him to eat if he thinks he's in the right.

It's late now, and Daryl's just been dicking around for most of the afternoon, trying to avoid people when he can. He's walking to his cell block when he hears a hushed voice he recognises as Carol and peaks into her cell.

She's sitting on the bed with Judith reading her a story. She looks up and catches his eyes instantly and Daryl feels like his been caught doing something he shouldn't. She smiles warmly at him though and he smiles timidly back.

"Sorry," He says and ducks to keep moving but her voice stops him.

"It's okay, I was just reading to Judith. You okay?" She asks softly. She's so tender and sweet and genuinely concerned it makes Daryl's insides move uncomfortably. He's always had a sweet spot for Carol though, he feels at ease with her.

He nods, but then stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and shrugs noncommittally. He can't sleep, maybe she'll let him hang out here for a while. He wouldn't mind her company.

He doesn't want to ask though.

She just smiles at him and pats the space on the bed next to her like she can read his mind, which he honestly wouldn't put it past her some days.

It's all the encouragement he needs. He makes his way over slowly, not to seem too eager and makes himself comfortable next to her. Judith makes a gurgling sound and he pats the baby's stomach gently which gets a smile out of her. 

He's sitting so close to Carol he can smell her hair and feel her body heat next to him. Its way closer then he'd usually sit next to someone, physical contact is not one of his strong points, but Carol squeezes his knee gently, in a comforting manner and he doesn't mind. He doesn't mind being this close to her.

He peaks at the book on her lap, which looks like some old kids story about a train, one he's never heard before.

Carol smiles at him, but it's loaded with so many questions behind it. Ones he knows she won't ask though, because Carols good like that and she'll wait for him. Daryl's not sure he's ready to talk about it yet, he's been avoiding people for weeks so this alone is a big step.

"Have you ever heard this story?" Carol asks gently, she's teasing a bit. He can tell, but he doesn't mind.

He shakes his head, staring intently at the pictures to avoid her gaze and she smiles, "It's Judith favourite."

She starts reading again, and it doesn't take long for Daryl to realise he's not going to make it to the end, he'll have to go back later when no one's around to see if the stupid train makes it up the stupid hill.

For now however he leans hesitantly on Carols shoulder, and when he's not met with a flinch or rejection of some kind lets his eyes drift shut and lets the lure of her voice put him in a sleep.

-/-/-/-/-/-

The next morning, Daryl wakes up with a start.

For two main reasons. One, because when he realises he's awake he also realises he wasn't woken  by a  horrific nightmare, but simply his body clock telling him it's time to get up. Which means he sleep through the night.

The second reason is because the events of last night come back to him, hitting him in the gut and holy shit he fell asleep on Carol, listening to a bed time story.

Merle would beat the shit out of him for this.

_He_ kind of wants to beat the shit out of him for this.

He's so startled he doesn't realise Carol is staring at him contemplative with her hands up like she's trying to sooth a baby deer.

"Daryl it's alright it's just me," She says slowly and _oh god this is so much worse._

She clearly knows something is wrong, he would never actively let himself fall asleep on her if he was fine, and she's worried. Daryl hates when Carol is anything but content and he's the reason she's worked up. Plus, he's never going to live this down. He's so mortified right now.

What if she goes around telling camp that Daryl Dixon fell asleep to a bed time story?

He doesn't quite think Carol is malice in any way, but she'd think it was cute enough to tell certain people. And Daryl doesn't need this from anyone. He's respected around camp, feared by some. He has a bloody reputation to uphold.

"Yeah, I ugh, sorry." He grumbles and jumps from the bed. She tries to reach out to grab his arm but he moves out of reach quickly. He tries not to let the hurt on her face effect him.

"Sorry," He says again and before she even has time to say anything he's gone.

It's still early, early enough for him to slip out before anyone else wakes up so he grabs his cross bow and tells Glen whose on watch he's going on a solo run.

Glen looks like he wants to argue, to say anything to get him to stop but Daryl has already hopped on his bike before the younger can get anything out.

He hunts for the most of the morning and afternoon, and comes up with some decent sized Game.

He doesn't want to pin this down to the fact that it's because he's actually had some sleep and can now focus. But it clearly it has something to do with it. His senses are sharper. He hasn't been able to think this clearly in so long.

He also doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that last night was the first time he's gotten more than 2 hours sleep in one sitting in weeks. He has no idea if it has to do with the fact that it's because Carol was there. It seems silly, that just having her there could keep the nightmares at bay. Having someone in the room helped him sleep.

He doesn't know if there's some kind of connection or not, and he's too afraid to ask her to stay with him again. What is he, four?

He sits just outside the prison, away from view contemplating just how much of a pussy he is. He needs some time to think, to be away from everyone. He knows they care, he knows they're worried about him, but it's all so overwhelming. He's not used to people who want to help him. It's terrifying on so many levels.

It's late when he makes his way back to the prison, Game in hand. He can make out Rick by the farm and knows there's trouble. He's probably been waiting for him all day, ready to yell at him for running off like a petulant child and going on a solo run.

It makes his stomach twist that someone would be worried enough about him to wait up for him. He wonders if Carols dobbed on him. He knows most things are safe with her, she's private enough to keep things for him. But if she's worried about him, she would have told Rick what happened. And he knows the rest of the camp is aware he's not sleeping, and now not eating.

It seems silly for them to worry about him though, he's not worth the trouble.

"You've been gone all day," Rick says when he enters the gates, Rick has his hands crossed over his chest and he looks annoyed. Daryl wonders if this is how Carl feels when he yells at him.

Daryl hates how small he feels.

Still, he's not about to bow down to him, "So?" Daryl snaps and shoves the meat at the former Sherriff.

Rick raises his eyebrows and shakes his head in disappointment, "I would have gone with you."

That's a lie, they both know it. Rick hasn't gone on a run since the governor, been copped up in his farm. Daryl gets it, gets the pressure is getting to him and he needs to take a step back. He doesn't want to be another burden on Rick.

Daryl just shrugs and refuses to make eye contact, making his way back up to the prison. He hears Rick sigh and walk next to him, "You've missed dinner, I had Glen save you a plate."

"Not hungry," Daryl says even though he is and he can't remember the last time he's eaten. All he's done the last few days is made people worry, not really a functioning community member is he?

Rick scoffs, as they make their way to the cell block and all but shoves a plate of food in Daryl's hands, motioning for him to sit at the table. Daryl stays rotted on the spot, giving the man a look of disbelief. He is not a child and he doesn't need to be treated like one. It's tense as they stare each other down, Carl is sitting with Judith at the other end of the table and he can tell the boys watching them closely.

"Sit, eat." Is all Rick says and Daryl just stays standing.

"You either sit and eat it, because everyone in camp knows you've been skipping meals, or I can have Hershel feed it to you through an IV when you collapse. That's your call," Rick says quietly, and Daryl freezes. He glares down at the food, losing his nerve to remain eye contact.

He sits down and eats the damn food. Daryl ignores the shit eating grin Rick gives Carl or the small laugh Carl omits. At least they're bonding, even if it is at Daryl's expense he thinks. 

"You gonna be okay tonight?" Rick asks him when he's finished. Daryl doesn't groan aloud, but he wants to. Instead he rubs his face with both of his palms, willing Rick to just drop it.

"If you want to talk about anything," Rick trails off and Daryl just snaps,

"I don't."

He hears Rick sigh, and Judith gurgles.

With that Daryl just gets up and walks away from the two, he's had enough of Ricks heartfelt talks for one day.

He doesn't sleep that night, instead he dicks around one of the empty cell blocks. He's too afraid to close his eyes, and maybe a little part of him wished he'd talked to Rick.

-/-/-/-/-

The next day Daryl knows better than to skip meals, so he turns up to breakfast and ignores anyone who tries to talk to him. Unfortunately he's cornered by Hershel who says he needs some man power for heavy lifting.

At this point he's honestly not sure if this is secretly Ricks idea to keep him busy to make sure he doesn't go out on a solo run again or not, but when Hershel recruits him and Glen to move around fences to build a pen in the farm he doesn't complain. At least it keeps his hands busy.

A few hours into it the pen is coming together, Hershel had been giving orders in his very zen way and Glen had been trying to make jokes and get Daryl to socialise a bit.

Daryl tried to grunt appropriately but he feels like he failed some kind of test.

Later he turns to Glen, "When's my next watch? I haven't done one for a while."

Usually he goes on runs, and watches are designated for people who stay back, but because it seems like he's been secretly banned from that he might as well be on watch next, it's not like his sleeping anyway. 

The moment he says this Glens shoulders go tense and he turns to Hershel, Daryl can't see his face but he'd put money on Glen panicking. Glen has to be about the world's worst liar because he has so many tells and can't act natural in any sense when he's uncomfortable.

It's Hershel who answers him, as calm as ever, "They're rotating the others at the moment, giving some people a break from watch. You're not on for a while."

He says it's so calmly and rationally that Daryl wants to throw the damn shovel his holding across the farm.

He's been taken off watch. They've discussed this amongst themselves, Glen, Maggie, Rick, Carol Hershel and Rick. Decided to take him off watch, they've been conspiring against him. Talking about him behind his back. They think he's useless.

Until this point Daryl had stupidly assumed he'd been getting away with them not noticing him. How long have they been keeping an eye on him? Just waiting for him to snap? How long have they known he's been having trouble sleeping?

He feels stupid for not realising how attentive everyone has been around him the last few weeks. Feels bad for clearly being more violent than usual due to lack of sleep, but also embarrassed for not realising they all seemed so concern.

Embarrassed they've all been watching him. Noticing how tired he was.

He feels like an idiot.

"What?" Daryl spits venomously and Glen looks at him with so much pity he wants to break something. People aren't supposed to pity him when he's yelling they're supposed to be scared of him.

Once upon a time he wasn't just a joke to these people.

"Now son, it's fine," Hershel says calmly.

Daryl contradicts this by throwing his shovel on the ground loudly and glaring at the two of them, trying to make a silent statement.

It doesn't seem to be working, and Daryl has a fleeting moment of clarity that he's not coming across quiet as intimidating as he would like and more like he's having a tantrum.

Glen sighs, "Daryl we're all just worried about you,"

And there it is. The nail in the coffin. They'll think he can't do anything next, as useless as Judith or some half ass citizen. He doesn't need their pity or concern. He doesn't need to be treated like some damn child.

He's so furious at them, so furious at himself for getting in this position but mostly he's humiliated. He stomps off the farm and back into the prison without giving them a second glance. He can hear them talking amongst themselves, no doubt already conspiring to inform Rick about this incident.

When he gets back to his cell and manages to avoid every person who tried to talk to him, he slams his fist into the wall harshly and feels a crack.

He clutches his now very sore fist to his chest and wills himself not to cry. He's so tired, he's so very tired but he can't close his eyes because he doesn't want to see which dead person his mind has in store for him.

He holds his fist uselessly close to him and leans against the wall, letting himself slide down it and end up on the floor. Now he just feels like an idiot for the tantrum he had down at the farm. That didn't prove anything except the fact that they're right, something is wrong with him. He's adding fuel to their fire and it's not helping his facade at all.

A brief moment flashes through his mind where he wants to get up, go to Rick and just tell him what's wrong. Let him know that yeah something is so very wrong and he needs _help._

The fleeting moment passes as quickly as it comes, the man has enough on his plate. He doesn't need Daryl's problems that he can't fix.

Daryl lets himself sit there and wallow for god only knows how long, enough that his hand starts to turn an ugly purple colour, he should have shown someone to fix it, but it's not like they could have iced it anyway.

He hears someone gently knock on the bars, a mere gesture more than anything else and he sees Rick standing there, concern reaching all over his features. He's probably talked to Glen, Daryl thinks bitterly.

Probably doesn't help he's found Daryl on the ground of his cell clutching a purple fist.

"What happened?" Rick asks as he sees Daryls hand, he knells down next to him, the same knell his seen the man do for Carl when he's upset.

Daryl doesn't make eye contact, instead he just shrugs noncommittally and lets his hair fall into his face. He's had worst injures as a kid and neither of his parents even noticed. This is hardly worth crying over.

Rick just sighs audibly, reaches out to take Daryls good hand and help him stand up, clasping a strong hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.

"Let's go see if we stop the swelling," It's not a suggestion, and Daryl knows better than to argue, so he doesn't. He just lets himself be dragged along by Rick, he's too tired to care anyway.

There isn't much they can do for the hand, they try to stop the swelling with what they can but ice is nonexistent in the new world. Hershel doesn't say a word about it as he bandages his hand, just talks to Rick about the pen like Daryl isn't in the room. Daryl prefers being ignored then to being asked if he's okay or babied at least.

After an awkward dinner, where Daryl hesitates sitting across from Glen and when the boy gives him a knowing smile he nods back, all seeming to be forgotten, he heads back to his cell for the night, ignoring Ricks look of concern.

It's about two hours later when he hasn't slept a wink, hasn't even tried to when he hears Judith's soft cries from outside the block. They're followed by Carl trying to sooth her, but the baby girl is having none of it.

Daryl looks up from his bed when Carl walks past and spots him awake, he was trying to bounce her to sleep hoping the movement would at least calm the child.

"Sorry," Carl says sheepishly adjusting Judith, "I didn't mean to wake you, she can't sleep."

Daryl sits up, "Didn't wake me." Is all he provides.

If Carl thinks that's odd he doesn't comment, and continues to bounce the distressed baby.

"Do you wanna," Daryl doesn't finish his sentence, but kind of motions to his cell shyly, not exactly sure what he's asking.

 Carl looks more than relieved as he walks in and hands Judith off, making himself comfortable on the bed next to Daryl, "She likes you she might calm down."

Daryl doesn't comment that the kid is quick to take up an offer because he now has an arm full of baby. Don't get him wrong, he likes the little ass kicker, but he's not great with small humans.

Judith doesn't seem to mind though because the moment she's palmed off she gurgles happily and settles on his lap.

"It's just me she's bad for then," Carl laughs but he doesn't seem affected by it.

Daryl just gives the kid a small smile. It doesn't take long for Judith drift off, it's late and she was probably tired anyway.

Carl seems like he's going to say something but desperately Daryl beats him to it.

"You can say here for a bit, both of you. If you want," He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, which he thinks he pulls off but Carls pretty perceptive as far as teenagers go.

The kid doesn't say anything though, just nods and settles down on the bed, making himself comfortable. Daryl wonders how often Carl ends up in somebody else's bed for comfort. He's still a kid after all, no matter how trigger happy he's been over the last few months.

Daryl doesn't let himself dwell on it, just falls asleep at a very awkward angle on the bed, clutching Judith.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

When he wakes up next, he's alone, but it's daylight.

The events before come back to him and again, he's a bit mortified by them. If anything he just hopes he didn't crush the baby in his sleep, or Carl. That would be awkward to explain.

As he blinks himself awake he lets the nights events settle on him and he realises the now inevitable. He doesn't have nightmares as long as someone is in the room with him. It doesn't seem to have to be a certain person either, just someone.

He rubs a tired hand over his face. This is going to cause him so many unnecessary problems.

He gets up and makes his way outside, not sure of what else to do. He sees Michonne talking to Rick by the door, and he jogs over to them. Rick sees him and smiles slightly.

"Michonne was just about to do a run, you up for it?" Rick asks.

Daryl's not stupid, and he'd bet that Ricks not either. Which means Carl told him about last night, and Rick is piecing together that Daryl's problem is definitely a sleep issue. This means he knows that last night Daryl got a full nights rest. At least with Carol she _might_ not have told anyone, Daryls privacy is important to her. There was no way Carl wouldn't have told his dad.

Still, he _has_ had a full night sleep and he'll take any opportunity to get away from these people trying to constantly pry into his life. Good intentions or not Daryl is not a good enough people person to deal with this.

Quickly he goes to get his cross bow and heads out with Michonne. They managed to raid a few houses with a decent first aid supply and canned food. They've had better hauls but it's not bad as far as they go. Plus, Michonne doesn't mention his behaviour once.

 He could kiss her.

He won't.

 But he could.

Day, eventually and inevitably, turns into night again and Daryl finds himself at an impasse. He's already tried to nick off to an empty cell block but Beth caught him lurking and he either had to explain himself or head back to his block, he chose the latter.

Again, he finds himself blinking up at the ceiling exhausted late at night, and he'd already turned his back on Carol when she'd come in to check on him. It was a dick thing to do, but he didn't want to talk about it. He knows they're all talking about him, discussing him when he's not around. He doesn't want to feel any more like an idiot, or anymore helpless then he already does.

It's a while later when he hears voices outside his cell block, and it's not like he's getting any sleep so he goes out to investigate.

Rick is sitting with his back against the wall and pillow in his lap, Carl is fast asleep curled up next to him on the pillow. Rick is reading some novel Michonne picked up on a run, with one hand tangled in Carls hair. The book looks long and boring in his opinion, but that's' something Rick would enjoy. Long and boring.

Rick looks up when he see's Daryl and smiles gently, "Can't sleep?"

He phrases it in a questioning tone, but Daryl feels like he knows already. He doubts a situation like this could have been planned, but he wouldn't put it past the former Sherriff.

When he doesn't answer he continues, "Carl couldn't sleep, I used to read aloud to him when he was younger. Used to help a bit. Not sure it does anymore though."

He looks down at the sleeping Carl who looks content enough. Daryl isn't sure if it should comfort him or mortify him that he has the same problem as a teenager.

"I don't really sleep much anymore either, a few hours here and there you know. But it gets hard sometimes." Rick continues.

Daryl wants to roll his eyes, he doesn't want to have this heart to heart or whatever the fuck it is. Instead he kicks at his cell block door gently, trying to ignore Rick.

Rick smiles at him, gentle and annoying like most of the older mans facial expressions, "Come on," he pats the ground next to him. It looks hard and uninviting and if Merle found out he'd kick his ass.

Still, Daryl makes a big show about rolling his eyes and sighing, but sits down next to the man anyway.

Rick bumps him gently with his shoulder, it's a comforting motion no matter how annoying it is, "Do you wanna get your pillow?"

If anyone else in the world had said that to Daryl he'd like to think he'd punch them in the throat, well he knows he would have a year ago. Instead he just scoffs and leans his head back against the wall, letting his eyes close and ignoring Rick.

It's not the most comfortable position he's ever slept in, but it's not the worst either. Apocalypse or not.

With the hard and stable presence of Rick and Carl next to him, he drifts off more easily then he would ever admit when Rick starts reading aloud again.

-/-/-/-/--

In the morning his back is sore as shit, he's way too old to be sleeping on floors. Rick is still asleep next to him, and Carl is still curled up on the pillow. It seems to be too early for anyone to disturb them yet, but he doesn't want to be caught by Maggie or Glen in this position.

When he hears someone cough about 3 meters away he jumps out of his skin.

"Sorry, I didn't meant to scare you," Carol whispers but he doesn't look particularly sorry about it. He just hopes to god she hasn't gotten hold of Maggies Polaroid camera with a keepsake of his unfortunate position somewhere.

As he stands up she hands him a hot mug of tea which he takes without complain, he stopped questioning long ago when Carol handed him something.

"Sleep well?" She asks, her voice is teasing.

Daryl doesn't blush, because he's a Dixon and he won't, but he pushes her shoulder gently, and refuses to make eye contact with her, "Shut up."

She smiles at him and rubs his arm tenderly, "I'm going to think you don't like me if you'll sleep with Rick and not me," It's a joke, anyone within a 10 mile radius can tell it's a joke, but it makes him uncomfortable all the same. He doesn't like to come across as weak.

He just shrugs and she can tell he won't comment, instead she grabs his still bandaged hand and inspects it. Making sure its healing properly. He just stands their awkwardly blowing on his cup of tea in one hand while Carol clasps the other one.

When she's satisfied there hasn't been any more damage done she nods and lets it go. He quickly brings it up to his chest. 

-/-/-/-/-

Now that Daryls had two nights worth of sleep he figures he can go without a third. So after dinner instead of hanging around the cell blocks he stays near the farm and ends up just wandering around aimlessly for a while until it gets dark.

Luckily Judith gets fussy and needs Rick, which means his otherwise occupied and can't seek Daryl out and make him go to bed.

Not like anyone can tell him to go to bed anyway, but still. It's the principle of the matter.

He's walking around with no purpose for a while, kicking rocks around like some lame teenager, and he contemplates going out of the prison for some air. It's too risky even for him though, and Rick would have a fit if he found out.

"Hey!"

The voice almost scares the absolute crap out him in the dark and he pulls his crossbow up to defend himself as a reflex.

When he sees that its Maggie who has yelled at him from the watch tower, and now has her hands up in a surrender position he quickly lowers it down. He feels stupid for even drawing it in the first place, when did walkers evolve to announcing themselves?

"What are you doing?" Glen pops up from behind her and oh yes, he almost forgot Glen and Maggie do their shifts together now. Sleeping up there and taking it in turns watching ever since they got married. It's nauseatingly cute. Daryl wants to hurl.

He shrugs, and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets but his not sure either one of them would have registered that from up there, "Nothin'," he yells defensively.

He sees them converse quickly, heads together as they discuss something, no doubt whether they should go dob on him to Rick or not.

Quickly their done and Glen disappears.

"Come up here Dixon!" Maggie yells hands waving excitedly as she motions for him to come to them.

Daryl considers his options. He doesn't particularly want to go up there, Glen and Maggie make it a little love nest when they're on watch, he doesn't want to intrude and be a third wheel for that. He also has no desire to be a part of a threesome either, so he assumes going up there has no desirable outcome for him.

 If he doesn't though, they will tell Rick he's wondering outside like a lost dog and he'll be dragged back to someone's cell block to sleep. He assumes they've all clicked on by now, so he doesn't want to have to be dragged somewhere for sleep. He knows they won't let him keep any dignity in that and he'd still like to hold on to some shred of it if he can.

"Come on!" Maggie yells at him again, more impatient this time. Daryl grumbles about Greenes always getting their way before he makes his own way up slowly.

He's greeted by exactly what he thought he would be, a weird makeshift bed with Glen sitting against the wall, gun in hand. He gives him an awkward salute which Glen just laughs at.

Daryl's not used to having the losing hand up against these two, but he supposes he was coerced into this.

"Took you long enough, forgot how to use your legs?" Maggie asks. It's one of the lamer jokes Daryls heard from her thick accent, but lets out a dry chuckle anyway.

"Trying," He replies.

"What happened to your hand?" Glen asks. He knows it happened after he stormed off, but he never asked how. Daryl clutches it to his chest instinctively; ashamed of his outburst and the mark he now has to wear. Maggie slowly reaches out for it, and he gives it up to her without a fight, displaying how mentally tired he is.

Although he's gotten sleep the last two nights he felt like he's been battling himself constantly for them. Trying to find someone to ease the tension, keep the nightmares at bay. The inner battle he is fighting within himself is almost as exhausting as the walkers.

"Fight with the cell block. The cell won," He says. Maggie chuckles and Glen smiles a bit.

"I'm sorry, bout the other day," Daryl whispers quietly, unable to look Glen in the eyes. When he finally does he sees the same smile on Glens features, now more loaded but still there.

"Don't mention it," is all he says and Daryl is glad Glen doesn't push.

He sits there for a while, listening to Glen and Maggie banter back and forth. He doesn't offer up much, but he doesn't think he's expected to either.

 It's nice.

He begins to yawn after a while, although he tries futilely to hide it behind his hand. Maggie smiles at him knowingly, which he tries desperately not to be embarrassed about.

All these chicks are their weird sixth sense.

"I should go," He says but as soon as he says it, Maggie puts a hand on his shoulder and shares a look with Glen.

"You can stay here if you want?" Glen asks, although he's not super convincing.

"Glen will do first watch, he'll wake you up for second," Maggie says far more determinedly and Daryl scoffs at her. They're both shit liars, but at least Maggie tries.

"Thought I was off watch duty," He tries not to sound too bitter.  

Maggie just smiles, "It'll be our little secret."

Daryl isn't stupid, although he realises a beat too late he was definitely coerced into this and fell into a trap. He feels remarkably dense for that.

Resisting them seems futile, and again he risks Rick getting involved, or Carol which would provide further humiliation on his part. He assumes going along with it might be easier.

Plus, getting tricked into having someone sleep next to you so you don't have nightmares, isn't the worse trick to fall into. After all Daryl put hot sauce in Merles mouth when he was sleeping once, that _had_ been mean.

"Whatever, your funeral," Daryl says in his most nonchalant, dismissive way he can as he lies down a little to the left of the make shift bed.

Nobody on the tower believes his act, but nobody says anything either.

Embarrassingly, Maggie moves one of the pillows he had purposely avoided under his head, and manhandles him until she finds him comfortable enough for her liking.

"You done yet?" He grumbles but she just laughs.

It should be weird; it is a little bit if he's being totally honest.

But he finds it comforting as he closes his eyes, trying to block out any embarrassment and focus on the soft lure of their voices. When fingers start to wove their way into his hair he flinches on instinct and his eyes snap open. He see's Maggies sheepish face above him, "Sorry. Just try to relax, my mom used to do this to me when I had trouble sleeping."

It's a risk not many would be willing to take, not only admitting aloud they know Daryl's been having trouble sleeping but trying to comfort him in such an intimate way. A year ago he would have probably bitten off said persons hand.

Instead, he hesitantly lies back down and tries to relax. He reminds Maggie of a frightened animal, but determined to help she runs her fingers through his hair again gently. He looks tense and uncomfortable at first, but easily melts into the touch.

After a while, when he's breathing slows down and Glens sure they've put Daryl Dixon to sleep, he turns to Maggie, "You would have made a really great Mom."

She smiles at him, and then back down to the sleeping form that is Daryl.

"Don't let him hear you say that."

The next morning when Daryl wakes up, Maggie isn't sitting behind him anymore and Glen is still on watch. They never woke him up, although he didn't expect they would.

"Sleep okay?" Glen asks, when he sees Daryl move.

The man sighs, and peaks up at Glen through his layers of long hair that needs a good wash.

He just nods, and Glen smiles, "We're always here if you need help."

_Help._

What a foreign concept to a Dixon.

-/-/-/

Later in the day he's sitting by the farm as Rick tends to whatever the fuck he's growing.

God how Daryl irrationally hates this stupid farm.

He knows it supplies them with food and whatever, he likes the _idea_ of the farm. He just hates being on it, hates what him sitting here represents.

Also Rick looks fucking stupid as a farmer.

Rick wipes sweat from his brow and panders over to Daryl taking a seat next to him, offering him some of his canteen of water. Daryl takes it without a word.

They sit in silence for a while longer, enjoying the serenity while Walkers moan and groan as they attack the fence. If you can drown them out its almost peaceful.

Finally Daryl speaks up, "I can't sleep."

Rick doesn't show any sign he's heard him, doesn't even twitch in his direction but he knows he has. Daryl waits a beat before he continues, "Whenever I close my eyes, they're there. The walkers."

He doesn't need to clarify, doesn't need to say that the walkers are the people he loves. The people he cares for, the people they've lost. Rick understands.

Rick spares a look at the leather clad man, who has his head resting between his bent knees picking at the grass.

At the beginning, Rick never would have thought that him and Daryl would ever reach an understanding, let alone be the friends he considers them to be now. He thought at one stage he may have to get rid of Daryl just like his brother. He'd never been more wrong, and he only wants to do what he can to help his friend.

One of the many things Rick noticed over time with Daryl was his complete hesitance and avoidance with eye contact and physical touch. It confused Rick at first, someone so hard being determined to avoid eye contact, timid was the only way he could explain it sometimes.

Maybe it was because he was a cop before this, or maybe he was perceptive, but the more he got to know Daryl the more he became a clear cut case. But not the one Rick expected. Not the redneck losers that Rick had to visit occasionally for harassing people, and not the low life's who assault women at bars he'd seen time and time again.

No, Daryl fell under a different category, when he flinched when someone touched him unexpectedly, his need to avoid eye contact and keep his head down when someone he saw as an authority disagreed with him. It took a while before Rick realised who Daryl reminded him of, but it clicked eventually.

Daryl reminded him of one of the many abused kids he'd checked up on. The ones where he's called in for a domestic violence issue and find the son huddled up in the corner with a black eye claiming he ran into a door.

It sickened him when it clicked, and he wanted nothing more than to make sure whoever did it paid a price. But he's never spoken to Daryl about it, wouldn't know how to approach it anyway. All he can offer now is a home, an unstable, surrounded by walkers home. But a safe place where people care about him nonetheless.

The hardest part about this whole thing was convincing Daryl they need him for more than just resources and man power. There's no doubt he thought for a while there Rick would just kick him out one day when he was no longer useful.

It's a small step, but Daryl's opening up. Rick will take it.

"Just tell me what you need me to do," Rick says quietly.

Daryl just shrugs. He needs Rick to do a lot of things, like to stop harassing him, and making sure he eats, and waiting by his cell block at night, and keeping him from runs and watch duty.

 But he also needs Rick to keep doing that stuff. Hell, he's not going to do it himself.

"Nothin'," He says, "It'll stop eventually."

Rick doesn't disagree, because they're both aware that it's a problem that needs immediate attention. But he knows that Daryl's done talking about it now, just that small step was enough for him. An invitation to help, an acceptance to acknowledge what Rick was already trying to do.

Help him.

He can work out a better plan of attack later, but so far the whole getting Daryl to sleep with someone each night has worked.

It's far from subtle, but it's worked.

Instead he stands up and heaves Daryl up with him, "Well for now I'll show you how to tell if the Tomatoes are ripe."

That does not sound like a thing Daryl wants to learn at all. He'd much rather stay ignorant to all the farming crap, but he follows the dork anyway.

No matter where he leads, he'll always follow the dork. They're family after all.

 


End file.
